


L'armure froide brise

by blenalela



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Christmas, M/M, doc stitches babe up and they start talking, late night talks in the foxhole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blenalela/pseuds/blenalela
Summary: Gene drops by Babe's foxhole and soon, both of them let their guard around each other down





	L'armure froide brise

L’armure froide brise

Night had fallen upon Belgium. Not that it meant anything. The krauts would shell them at any given moment without caring about the time.  
Why should they? Their objective was to kill them. They didn’t want to go easy on them.  
Babe hated sitting in a foxhole all by himself. Especially after tonight’s shellings. He couldn’t remember a time it was that bad.   
Maybe he just felt like this had been the worst so far because it was Christmas and he felt homesick. He wanted to be home with his family, watching his cousins unwrap presents. He wanted to feel the warmth of the fireplace. He wanted to eat his momma’s homemade apple pie. He even missed his granny’s wet kisses.  
He wanted to be home.   
Not sitting in a hole in the dirt, snowed in, prepared to die any minute. Because, if he didn’t die at the hands of some kraut, his damn cold would get the best of him. Thankfully, at least his coughing had almost stopped.

Maybe he wanted just to be distracted from his hurting hand. That was Doc’s fault. He wondered what the hell his problem was. He never called anyone by their nicknames. And what had that been earlier? Gene had never before ignored the call for a medic. On top of that, he hadn’t even apologized for scraping his hand. That had bled and hurt a lot. Truly, the medic was the last person he wanted to see tonight. He’d rather share with a kraut. Hinkel, for example.   
Had Hinkel ever made it home? Where was he?  
Maybe he should go look for Hinkel. Moving around would keep him warm and maybe he could make a friend!  
He shook his head and the smile faded from his face again. As if he’d go look for a kraut. He wasn’t Crazy Joe from Philadelphia. At least not yet.  
Babe wished for Bill to share a hole with him again. Bill always cheered him up, even in the freezing hell that was Bastogne. And Babe could talk to him about Doc. And his home. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps nearing and someone plopped into the hole next to him. It was him. Eugene Roe. Babe ignored him. He knew he probably seemed like a pouting kid, but he was good with that.   
Next to him, Doc was breathing heavily. A quiet “Everything okay?” followed. Even if Babe wasn’t on friendly terms with the man from Louisiana right now, he couldn’t help but feel a little calmer listening to his deep voice and faint accent.   
Doc had leant in a little bit closer so that Babe could feel his warm breath brushing his icy cold cheeks.  
“Babe?”  
He rubbed over his nose and sniffled. A muffled “Yeah” left his lips.   
Before he could lower his hand, the medic grasped it, looking at the deep cut with furrowed brows. “How’d you do that?”  
For the first time, Babe looked at him. “You did that.”  
Confusion crept into Gene’s face and he looked right into Babe’s eyes. Babe looked away again. He didn’t want to make up with him again so easily. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Cajun taking a closer look at his hand. He could feel his warm hands on his cold skin. It made him wonder. How did he manage to have such warm hands in such a cold? He couldn’t deny that the warmth felt good.  
“I’ll fix it up.”  
Babe didn’t answer.

He felt Eugene moving at his side, searching for a bandage in his pockets. Then Babe saw something blue in his warm hands. Doc stopped moving. Babe looked over to him, without moving his head.   
The medic held a headscarf in his hands. Possibly a dozen emotions flickered over his face, the most prominent being sadness. Babe felt his heart twitch. Slowly, the headscarf was being put away again. Doc seemed to think for a second. Then he whipped it out again and ripped it in half. Babe looked away again. Doc started rummaging through his pockets again.  
Suddenly, Babe realized what the Cajun had said earlier. A smile found its way on his chapped lips. “Hey Gene? You called me Babe.”   
Finally, the redhead thought.  
“I did?” A nod. “ When?” Doc asked, another look of confusion on his face.  
“Just now.”   
The medic nodded, opening a pack of sulfa, eyes darting between the pack and Babe’s face. “Babe...” He said, slowly letter for letter. Most importantly, he did so with a small smile. “Guess I did.”  
Babe laughed silently but happily as Doc poured the sulfa on his injury. He watched him, a grin on his face. Looking over at the Cajun, he mocked him. “Babe.”  
Doc huffed. “Heffron, watch the goddamn line.” Babe continued chuckling, but turned to look towards the line again. He didn’t miss the smile on the Cajun’s face changing to a more serious, concentrated look again. Expertly, Doc bandaged his hand, his fingers still being ridiculously warm.

For a moment, silence encompassed them.   
Babe could hear every single one of Doc’s breaths. Something was different about him, but Babe couldn’t really place it. It made him worry a bit. Who would stitch them together if not the calm medic?  
Sure, Spina was great too, but he was no Eugene Roe.  
“Hey Gene?”  
The medic made a quiet grunting noise.  
“Are you alright?”  
Dark brown eyes stared at him as if they had just seen a ghost. “What?”  
“I asked if you’re okay. It doesn’t look like it.”  
The medic thought for a moment before he spoke up again. “The aid-station was hit.” he finally answered plainly.  
Babe’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Did they get everyone out or-?” Pictures of Skinny and Smokey flashed before his eyes.  
“None of us was stuck in there.” There was a melancholic tone to his voice, lacing every word with sadness.   
Babe remained silent. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to say what he wanted to say.  
“Just say it, Heffron.”   
Babe flinched. Then sighed. And said what he had to say. “Did the owner of this here” he held up his bandaged hand “die in there?”  
The medic stared at him, blankly. Babe could feel him tense and he saw pain in his eyes before the medic turned away.  
“Yes she did.”   
Babe wouldn’t ever tell it to anyone, but the way Gene had said these three words had made his heart hurt like it had never did before. There was so much pent up pain in them, pain that had been sealed away for too long, he wondered how Doc had been able to go on.  
Without thinking, he moved closer to the medic and put one arm around his shoulders, thus pulling him even closer. He immediately felt warmer. How was it possible that Gene could radiate such warmth? That seemed like a true miracle to him.   
“I’m sorry.”  
Gene sniffled. Babe didn’t know what else to say, so he just held his friend. That did feel right to do.  
“She was a nurse.” Gene said. His voice was thin, barely audible. “She was there to help. And she was good at it. People were calmed down by her touch.” He huffed again. “When I told her that her hands were a gift from God, she didn’t believe me. She thought of it as a curse.”  
Babe let his friend talk and listened to him without saying a single word.  
“She said she never wanted to treat a wounded man ever again.”  
“What was her name?”  
“Renée. She was from Bastogne.”  
Babe nodded. “I’m sorry.” He said again.  
“It’s not your fault.”  
Gene’s head dropped onto Babe’s shoulder. “I’m tired. Tired of all of this.”  
Babe leant his head against Gene’s helmet and they stayed like this, both of them watching the line.   
It was still eerily silent, only their breath broke the silence. The sky was clear and the moon and the stars could be seen for the first time in what felt like ages. Their light was reflected by the snow. The moon alone was perfectly mirrored by the small puddle of blood in front of their foxhole. Under other circumstances, it would have looked almost beautiful, but here, in the Bois Jaques, it didn’t.  
Julian’s writhing, bloodied body forced its way into Babe’s head. The boy’s frightened face flashed before his eyes. He still had nightmares about the patrol. He wondered if they’d ever leave him alone.  
He had tried to get to him. He did want to go back to get him. But he couldn’t. He would forever rue the things that happened on this snowy day out there in the woods.

“How do you do it?” Babe released his hold on the medic and sat up. Gene’s head still rested at his shoulder, though it had now dropped a bit down on his arm.  
“Do what?”  
“Not let people’s death affect you.”  
Gene sat up straight to look at the redhead from Philadelphia. His eyes were teary.  
“You always seem to be around when people die. How do you find the strength to not let it get you?”  
Babe admired the Cajun medic. He must have been the strongest of them all. He never participated in battle, he always had to watch from the sidelines and rush in as soon as he heard the scream for a medic. And more often than anyone in Easy liked, he came too late. Yet Gene never seemed to break under the weight of loosing so many friends. Until now, he had never shown this kind of ‘weakness’.  
“You know I never call anyone by their nickname?”  
Babe nodded.  
“I try not to get close to anyone. Always keep a fair distance. If there is no one I am close too, I can’t get affected too much by their deaths. Too often they’re inevitable.”  
“But isn’t that incredibly lonely?”  
“It is.”  
Gene sighed and looked down at the bottom of the hole. Babe chewed his lip. In a way, Doc was right. It wouldn’t hurt as much if you weren’t close to the dead. But he was grateful for the friendships he had made with Bill and Julian, though the one with Julian hurt incredibly by now. But he had loved their shared nights in the foxhole, laughing and telling each other stupid stories from home. He was sure Gene would love something like this too.  
“Gene?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I promise not to die out here.”  
Gene turned to look at him again. “What are you trying to say?”  
“You can get close to me. Then you won’t have to be lonely anymore.”  
Gene stared at him. Then, a small smile stretched out on his face. “I’ll think about it… Babe.” His head dropped on Babe’s shoulder again.   
A huge grin spread on Babe’s lips. He finally found his way into the medic’s armor. Carefully, he put his head down on Gene’s again and huddled together, they spent the night, watching the line until the sun rose again and a new day in Bastogne’s hell began.

But for now, they had found a quiet piece of peace.


End file.
